


What it Means to be Okay

by litus



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Other, i haven't done this since 6th grade, oh god how do i write fanfiction, please god spare me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25463551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litus/pseuds/litus
Summary: Oh, to experience feelings! To experience... Experiences? Left alone under the infinite stars among infinite galaxies... between infinite universes... It makes you feel, well, a little sad. The new friend on board wants to make sure there's no need to feel that way.
Kudos: 7





	What it Means to be Okay

It was really cold in space. Swerve’s legs were draped over the side of the counter as he stared out at the infinite mass of stars through a porthole. The bar windows were never entirely clean for some reason, making the distinction between star and smudge somewhat of a challenge. The squeaking of a microfiber towel licking away the last few drops of cleaner within a cup seemed to echo much louder through the empty lounge than anticipated, leaving Swerve to cringe at the noise between his own digits. The cup carefully took up a spot next to him, and he pushed himself to the floor. A swift wipe of the counter and the satisfying feeling of finally cleaning the bar seemed to fill his spark for a few moments, leaving him lingering near the barstools a while longer.

A cold realization - colder than the abyss of antimatter engulfing the Lost Light - hit the minibot like a phase-sixer in a drunk fight: Swerve would be returning to his quarters to complete his routine… alone. Again. Nobody to share these hilarious stories about bar antics with. Nobody to listen to him carry on about the day he had or how many people came in somehow keeping weapons out of Ten’s sight… Nobody to ask for help to reach the smudges on the windows to see the stars a little better. A heavy sigh escaped from his entire being, and he trudged towards the exit. A last look back at the emptiness as a sort of reminder before turning out the overhead lights and locking up.

Y/N was something of an anomaly aboard the Lost Light - a different planet, a different species, a different… Everything, mostly. The ship’s crew seemed a bit split down the middle regarding their “different” shipmate. Some were thrilled to have someone not from Cybertron dwelling in close quarters. Others could have cared less. Swerve particularly had a unique interest, making eye contact with Y/N almost nonstop since they joined the crew - something they weren’t sure was creepy or endearing. The minibot always had this spark-deep awe that was caught every time Y/N walked past. Perhaps it was the interests the two shared, or the fact that they were foreign to each other, or even… The fact that the alien aboard always smelled something of an Earth peach. He whispers it to himself every time.

“Hmm. Peach.”

Swerve positioned himself on the recharge slab as comfortably as he possibly could, considering the circumstance of utter loneliness that pitted his spark like never before. 

‘This kind of feeling wouldn’t last,’ he thought, adjusting his position slightly. Coupling his hands together over his chest, he contemplated the way the stars looked earlier. They were so distant from one another, but they wouldn’t get lonely. Maybe they loved the distance and shouted at each other. Then they’d be shouting - no - screaming stars. Stars… Scream. Okay, shove that thought in the trash. Maybe they were all afraid of getting close, so they stay away from one another to give them enough… Space? Swerved chuckled at the idea of each individual star, yelling at the top of their lungs, “I NEED MY SPACE!”

The laughter ceased as he noticed a low buzzing coming from somewhere in his room. It seemed to sort of fade in and out as the frequencies changed every few seconds, making him slightly annoyed at the fact that having someone to talk to would drown out the-...

The…

“Hmm…” Swerve’s thoughts came to a complete stop and he felt every axle and hydraulic completely relax. “Peach…”

A gentle knock on the metal door snapped him out of his trance, and Y/N’s voice piped up.

“I saw you, uh, leave your bar earlier and I noticed you looked a little upset. I know you don’t know me that well but… But I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Swerve felt his spark melt and his entire body go almost completely limp. This had to have been fate, right? Just in his time of need, here comes the sweetest, most interesting character he’d ever met right up to his door… Asking for him. Coolant began coursing through him as his temperature rose. He felt… Well… He just felt. An emotion that couldn’t be described through any language, but one you’d feel wholeheartedly when something truly triggers a completely new level of euphoria. Elated, he hopped forward off the slab and hastily made his way over to the door, feeling a new sense of hope as it slid open.

“I-I’m… Would you, uh…” He paused and thought about his words, leaving Y/N awkwardly in the doorframe for a half second. “Come in, p-please, make yourself comfortable and I’ll, um. I’ll sit… Also. Right here. Across from you. On the s-same slab.” Sentences were completely out of the question at the moment. All Swerve wanted to do was bask in the feeling of having someone closeby, taking in the different kind of silence. Y/N relaxed a little as the minibot’s fans kicked on, noticing a pleasant feeling in the droning noise. It seemed like hours passed between the two before one of them finally spoke.

“Why do you think the stars are so far apart?” Swerve’s visor flickered in the low light of the dorm and it seemed like he was a million lightyears away. “I mean, do they not like each other?”

Y/N laughed, sending the bot’s fans into high gear. “I think…” they began. “They have their own sort of gravity. So they spend their time apart to appreciate one another from a distance. I suppose it’s entirely possible that they stay such a way apart because they hate each other.” The alien laughed again, this time leaning back a little, feeling more comfortable in his presence. “I’m surprised you asked, though. That’s not something you think about every day.”

Swerve’s awkward chuckle made it apparent that, while his mind would wander, he’d still find himself on the topic of space. “It just goes on and on, doesn’t it? I mean… The space… Around us.” He found himself almost enamoured by the idea of talking to his new friend about the galaxies and the theories they could share about planets they’d hope to come across. A daydreamer such as himself couldn’t keep all these brilliant ideas to himself, after all. He froze halfway through another thought when he realized Y/N hadn’t said anything yet. The two just stared at each other.

“There… Doesn’t have to be space around us if you don’t want it,” Y/N whispered. A hand reached over to blanket Swerve’s, and his spark jumped. “The universe really is infinite, you know. All of those stars and worlds beyond reach of one another.” Fingers intertwined and his friend leaned closer. “It almost makes you glad you have someone close enough to hold on to-”

Swerve withdrew himself entirely, his fans at full power and his digits now gripping the edges of the recharge slab, staring into Y/N’s entire being. He had to take this one step at a time - he didn’t think anyone felt that way about him, and it sent a different feeling awakening in his mind. A different kind of joy that comes around only when it’s real. He apologized and inched forward to his previous position.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just thought… I… I’ll leave n-”

Without giving it half of a second thought, the minibot grabbed the nearest arm and pulled Y/N into a soft kiss. He felt everything at once and his senses were overcome with the warmth of his companion on his face and his vents releasing as much as they could. His grip fell completely limp as his hand dropped to Y/N’s. Perched on the slab, wrapped entirely in this feeling, Swerve realized his routine would never be the same again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not an English major. In fact, I'm so far from knowing any basic English writing skills, I dropped the focus altogether and just said "fuck it, chef."
> 
> ...And now I grill shrimp for a living.


End file.
